the Chronicles of Jason Ander
by EarclopsSwordsman
Summary: When an abused teenager finds himself in Ooo, he gets caught into a conflict capable of destroying reality as both himself and the denizens of Ooo know it.
1. Beginnings

**____****I attempt to stay as true as possible to canon in terms of species, characters, and locations. This allows me less freedom than other writers, so please keep your sent-in ideas as true to canon as possible.**

Air whipped around my body like a flurry of rage. As the clouds broke from the shear force of the momentum, the looming threat of my body crashing into the green landscape below slowly grew closer and closer.

I was falling.

As I collided with the ground, it was as if a shock-wave blasted into my very center. I awoke, alive and well. A nightmare, or maybe a fantasy. I did have such vivid dreams quite often, a condition I didn't know how to quite explain. I could taste, feel, smell, and even get hurt in my own dreams. No matter what occurred in these vivid worlds, I would wake up as the pain blunted into my body and slowly faded away as my eyelids opened.

As I did every morning, I focused on a single thought. I did this in case I ever forgot who I was, I would always have a link to my past. Its stupid, I know, but remembering nothing is just as not existing. The thought of forgetting who I am was always a scary subject for me, bringing chills down my spine each time I thought about it.

_My name is Jason Ander, and I'm fifteen years old._

I threw off the dull beige covers, cracking my spine as I sat up. The bed which I once found comfort on slowly degraded into a mess of damaged springs and crusted foam. Lifting myself from my matress, a gunshot echoed into the distanced. Most likely another idiot drunk, thinking they can shoot a bottle thrown into the air or some crap like that.

I tossed open the closet door, revealing the one pair of clothing that hadn't been ripped beyond repair. A clean but faded yellow T-shirt, a pair of darkened yet oddly flexible jeans, and an old pair of dirty sneakers. I also tossed on a royal purple backpack of sorts, although it was more of a survival pack I got from one of my relatives one holiday. My stuff wasn't the best, but hey, you live with what you're dealt with, right?

That one thought kind of echoed through my head, causing me to tumble backwards and back onto my bed. Tears began to well up in my eyes. That phrase reminded me of mom, before she died. Now I'm stuck with cheap clothing, a ruined bedroom, and a rotting neighborhood. I sat up, hoping to leave before-

"Jason! Get down here!" A yell echoed from down stairs. It was too late, he had already awoken. I hurriedly rummaged through my nightstand drawer, pulling out a dusty yellow and black striped yarn beanie. I stuffed it into my backpack, opening my door and rushing down stairs. Beer bottles hit my feet as I trudged through the piles of empty alcohol containers.

And there he sat, filthy and covered in sweat. As if his recliner wasn't as disgusting enough, he's too lazy to bathe. I hesitantly approached the recliner, both hands on my backpack. My step-father, the person I hated the most in my life. We blamed each other for mother's death, his aggression warping his mind.

"Get me a beer." He sternly told me, flicking through channels like always. The rent was due, and with the small amount of money he earned as a mechanic, I was sure he'd subract money from buying food for me, leaving me to starve until after the rent was paid.

Not wanting to get him mad, I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a beer out of the nearby six-pack. I came back into the living room and handed him, flinching as he snatched it out of my hands and cracked it open. Taking a large swig, he looked back at me with an anger in his eyes.

"It's warm."

"There were none in the fridge..." I replied, struggling to speak clearly as my throat slowly closed up. He didn't like me defending my reasoning, I could tell. With a swift jab, I felt my nose crack and stumbled backwards. He slowly got to his feet, cracking his knuckles with a satisfying smirk smeared onto his face.

I ran as fast as I could, rushing out the front door as he chased after me. I didn't give him a damn beer, so he decides to break my nose. Just perfect.

After a few minutes, I looked back to see nothing. He had given up, most likely. I sat down, just a few meters away from the high school. Luckily, I had packed a hand mirror inside of my backpack, and could view what damage he had done to my nose. It was pretty bad, stained with purple and noticably cracked to the side. Dried blood splotched my upper lip, most likely caused by the initial breakage.

I pulled out a rag I had planned to use for washing my face with, as this problem was far more immediate. I ripped a small piece off, using it to wipe away the blood. With another quick tear, I created a makeshift bandage in the form of a long strip. I gently folded the strip, compacting and strengthening it. Next, I tore off a few pieces of bark off of the nearby tree, revealing the tender sap inside. A few dabs of that on the bottom of the rag, and I had myself a bandage.

Then came the hard part. This wasn't the first time I had my nose broken, but it doesn't mean you ever learn to block out the pain. I grabbed the bridge of my nose gently with two fingers, quickly jerking my wrist and setting the bone back in place. A loud scream and several stomps on the sidewalk assured me that I would never get used to this. I placed the sap-dabbed bandage onto my nose, securing the newly-set bone from healing improperly.

I took a moment to examine myself before I went further. Messy, hazelnut brown medium length hair that would grow inches in just a few months. My hair complimented my dark amber-brown eyes, or at least I thought so. My nose had a large blue bruise on it, with a smaller purple area caused by the breaking. My physique was basically just average, I wasn't muscular and I wasn't overweight.

I sighed, putting back the cracked hand mirror into my bag. As I approached the cliffside school, a large truck swerved. The back of it hit me at full force, launching me into a tumble down the cliff. Reddish sand slowly warped out of existance in front of my very eyes, a field of altered reality infecting my surroundings until the world began to resemble some form of unrecognizable fantasy land.

From a swerving truck and a view of the cliff I fell from, to a clear blue sky and moist clouds breaking as I fell through them. Only now did I realize I was going to die, and my sense of peace crumbled into shear terror.

I was falling.

With a thud, I hit the ground.


	2. Awakening

**____****I attempt to stay as true as possible to canon in terms of species, characters, and locations. This allows me less freedom than other writers, so please keep your sent-in ideas as true to canon as possible.**

The pain of the initial impact slowly faded as I regained consciousness. Instead of a hospital bed or red stone laying upon my impact zone, a thick sheet of wild grass stood beneath me in their place. I clutched by side as I struggled to stand, bruised and beaten from the fall alone. I lifted my shirt slightly, revealing a heavily bruised rib area. Recognizing the feeling from my step-father's beatings, I knew I had broken ribs. Except, unlike a broken nose, I had no idea how to set a broken rib. Questions raced through my mind as I began to examine my surroundings.

_Where am I?_

_What happened?_

_How did I survive the fall?_

One thing was certain, however, and that was that I had to find some medical attention. From the books I read in my free time, I knew broken ribs could potentially lead to worse problems. If the ribs had shattered, shards of bone would already be digging into the surrounding muscle with every step I took. I had no idea where I was, so finding a hospital would be hard, I could see what appeared to be a house carved into a tree far in the distance, but it would take weeks to get there at my pace. I could wait until help came to me, but I doubted that anyone even knew I was gone, and if they did, I doubt they'd find me in time.

I examined my surroundings, looking for any sign of a trail. Some tracks of a dog-like animal stood out, leaving crusted mud imprints. I followed them, leaving the hill and approaching a large forest. A few paw prints followed into the forest, black and scorched as if the animal had been made of charcoal, as if the animal burnt off the moist dirt coating it's limbs. I brushed the silly fantasy out of my head, taking a deep breath and venturing forth into the forest. A dark, looming shadow cast itself under the large foliage, allowing only a fraction of the sun to shine through.

The shadows almost felt like they were watching me. I started getting scared, running through the forest blindly. Within minutes, I was lost within this labyrinth of trees. A grumbling sound within my stomach alarmed me to the fact I hadn't eaten today, and a cold breeze sent shivers down my spine. Barbed, thorned, gnarled vines hung from several trees, giving off an ominous appearance. I clutched my shoulders, sitting down up against a tree. My eyes darted from bush to bush as rustling was heard. Something was here, and I was scared.

Embers began to form in the air, and an illuminating orange light grew closer. The bushes began to catch fire, and so did the trees. I was cornered. A wolf composed of volcanic ash slowly stepped out of the burnt bushes, panting slighty. A ring of fire slowly surrounded us in an enclosed area, leaving me with no choice but to fight. The creature began growling, the flames burning hotter by the second the more it's anger grew.

I stumbled for the nearest object in my reach; a thick wooden branch. The wolf lunged at me, and, out of blind instinct, I took a swing at it with the branch. Although it succeeded in knocking the beast back, the branch caught fire and was reduced to a steaming pile of charcoal. The wolf clambered to it's feet, growling heavily and baring it's teeth in an aggressive manner. I knew wood would only result in the demon growing angrier, so I had to think fast and improvise.

The wolf took another lunge at me, it's head being met with a large stone off the ground. The unsettling crack of the brittle charcoal forced me to cringe, and I approached the wounded animal. It's head was now caved in, bleeding boiling lava as it failed to get up off the ground. Even if it survived, it'd be effectively mentally damaged for life. Despite the creature attacking me first, and my instinctual attempts at self-defense, I still felt an unbearable guilt upon me.

I clutched the stone within my hands, raising the sharp end high above the wolf's head.

**CRACK**

The shattering of hardened ash and the beast's final whimpers only made me feel worse. Rain began to pour, putting down the raging forest fire that, just moments ago, threatened to take my life. I gathered a small pile of wood under a tree, lined it with stones, and placed the wolf's body in the center. I couldn't exactly eat it, but at least I had fire for the night.

The soft sound of the rain soothed me as I was enveloped by the warmth of the fire. I drifted off, remembering the times when Mom was still alive.


	3. Inquiry

**____****I attempt to stay as true as possible to canon in terms of species, characters, and locations. This allows me less freedom than other writers, so please keep your sent-in ideas as true to canon as possible.**

The moisture in the air nipping at my face awoke me, the storm having past away during the night. The fire was cold and dry, burning no more. I still had so many questions regarding my situation, none of which I could find an answer for. Flaming wolves, vast untamed landscapes, and unusual circumstances regarding my arrival all pointed to a single probable explanation:

I wasn't on Earth anymore.

But if I was no longer on Earth, where could I be no? Another dimension? Some kind of alien planet? An alternate timeline? I had no answers, and the hunger from yesterday returned to my grumbling stomach. It was early morning, the dew having poured just minutes before I awoke. I still couldn't get my head off the fact that I killed something, an unnatural flaming wolf or no, it was still living. With a lack of food or warmth, I trudged further into the forest.

As I reached what I thought would be the exit, the path split into two, a fork within the vast landscape of trees. My stomach dropped as I noticed a skull dangling from a vine. I screamed and fell back in response, only to back up into another skeleton wrapped within vines. A message written within bones told of the inability to make a decision causing a wait of years, until either vines grew upon their rotting corpse or a wild beast dragged the off.

I simply stared at the fork, my eyes darting from the left path to the right. They both looked nearly identical, making it impossible to know which one would lead to freedom. One could contain unspeakable horrors, while one could lead me to food and shelter. I froze, continuing to stare within the boundaries of the choice. So many had died within this death-trap, how was I supposed to prevail? I had no training, no expert will-power, and I was already trapped within the spell of the choice.

I quickly cleared my mind, focusing on relaying on pure instinct. I charged forth blindly, too caught up in the moment to realize what path I had taken. I was quickly snapped out of the instinct-induced trance by a scream. I looked forth, spotting a marketplace of sorts under attack. Large, multi-colored, anthropomorphic crystal ants were destroying market stalls. Assorted humanoids were fleeing in terror, most of them a shade of green or blue. As I entered into the chaos-fueled scene, the ants took their attention to me, and began advancing aggressively.

I had to react. I quickly surveyed the area, searching for anything that might deem useful to me. I noticed some form of stone rod stabbed into a tree, and I made a dash for it. One ant began firing arrows at me, forcing me to nimbly roll out of the way. I was reacting solely on my need for survival, as I had never actually fought before. I might have gotten in a fight or two, but I was either overpowered before I could fight back or I refused to. I tumbled into the tree, gripping the sword with both hands and making a futile effort to withdraw it.

The bow-wielding ant dropped his empty quiver, drawing a dagger instead. The group began advancing, all ready to strike the killing blow. I pulled, and pulled, but the sword wouldn't budge. I had to survive, I didn't want to die. I especially didn't want it to end like this, lost in some foreign world full of monsters and danger. I pulled once more, this time the sword successfully popping out.

An ant grabbed my shoulder in an attempt to stab me, and I reacted quickly with a swing of the unusual sword. It was completely stone, with a spear-like blade. It had a regular sword blade until the tip, in which it turned into an arrow or spear tip with a ridge expanding it's width. The ant blasted into small crystal shards, distracting the rest momentarily. I gripped down leather-wrapped hilt tightly as I pointed the blade at one of the ants, unintentionally causing the spear tip of the blade to fire off of the blade through a rope hidden within a hollow compartment in the sword.

As the shot destroyed another ant, they began backing away into the forest uneasily. I had put my body through so much stress during the fight, more stress then I've ever experienced in my life. Every muscle in my body ached, I was hungry, and even my mind was tired of all the quick thinking I was forced to do. The unusually colored townspeople came out of their hiding places and began to cheer, clapping their hands and yelling.

"Tell us, great warrior! What is your name?" One of them asked, a large smile plastered on his face.

"Jason. Jason Ander." I groaned, taking deep breathes and holding onto my knees. I tried my best to ignore the clearly non-human people, and appreciate that I saved both myself, and them.

"All hail Jason of Ander!" The townsperson cheered, starting a crowd-wide cheer of the warrior 'Jason of Ander'. I guess this place had some form of title-based recognition system, or maybe they just misheard my name. I didn't bother thinking about it, instead dropping to the ground out of exhaustion.


	4. Recovery

**_Sorry for the hiatus on this chapter, I was paying someone to create a thumbnail for the story._**

**__****____****I attempt to stay as true as possible to canon in terms of species, characters, and locations. This allows me less freedom than other writers, so please keep your sent-in ideas as true to canon as possible.**

I stood with my back against a sturdy oak tree, attempting to deal with the heavy stress forced upon me. If I had a chance to find answers, I'd find them by repaying my debt to Choose Goose. I had no fighting skill, making me a less-than-ideal candidate for defending a market. Even my battle against the crystal ants was a mix of pure luck and the fact someone embedded a sword into a tree. I raised my back off the hefty oak, rising to my feet.

I had to survey the area, to make sure I was in no immediate danger. Walking through the market, Choose Goose attempted to glare at me the best a goose can glare, before flopping back down to attend to cleaning his wares. I tried my best to ignore him, his threat echoing through my head. Continuing on, I looked off into the horizon, noticing no monsters or other threats.

I sighed in relief, knowing I was safe for another day. I wasn't magic, this sword clearly used a clockwork firing mechanism, so I didn't have a magic sword, and I had no experience with sword-fighting. If I found myself in another fight, I would surely die. A structure stood out, however, within the horizon. A large house, carved into what appeared to be a gigantic tree. It reminded me of my initial arrival, the pain of my cracked ribs tempting me to travel there for help.

I was lucky as it is that Choose Goose bandaged me up, traveling there could endanger the market as well as myself. The thick forest surrounding the path out of the market prevented me from seeing any other structures, leading to even further curiosity of the world I now find myself within. I shook my head, exiting this daydream. I couldn't leave, because if I did, I'd either get eaten by some kind of creature or be hunted down by that damn goose for not repaying my debt.

I tried to head back to the tree for further stress and preparation, but an odd sensation stopped me. It was as if I was paralyzed, my peripheral vision catching a figure in the corner of my eyes. I quickly darted around, regaining my movement, and the figure stopped in it's tracks. A dark brown cloak surrounded the figure, shadows from a large looming hood covering it's face and identity. My eyes widened, the figure quickly initiating a fight-or-flight response and darting for the forest.

I followed shortly behind, rushing after the figure through hefty branches and twigs. The figure darted so nimbly, easily avoiding every branch as if it knew the forest like it was it's home. Tired of branches smacking me in the face and slowing me down, I drew my sword from my survival pack and began swinging wildly as I ran after the figure. Branches flew with every strike, the figure's nimble feet being unable to keep up with the might of a sword.

Finally, I gripped down tightly on the handle of the blade, firing the arrow-like tip off the blade at the figure. The figure quickly darted for an unknown side-path I failed to notice, resulting in the shot ripping a small piece of the figure's cloak off and nothing more. I stopped, panting with my hands placed on my knees, before realizing that I had lost the chase. Once I had regained my breath, I took the small piece of old fabric into my hands, softly brushing it with my thumbs. It was old and worn, like some kind of memento.

A scream came from the market, panic growing within my eyes. If the market got hurt, if something happened, I'd be the one they'd blame, the one Choose Goose would blame. I ran faster than I thought I ever could, twigs snapping under my feet, branches breaking into my body as I ran. Mud slipped under my shoes, sending me into a forward tumble through the exit of the forest. The first sight that greeted me, however, was not the figure as I expected, but rather a large giant coated in fungi. It held a mighty whip in one hand, while it's other split into three joint-lacking limbs.

I fumbled to draw my sword, attempting my best to unhook the straps securing it to my backpack. In a fit of frustration, I instead sliced through the metal loops by flipping the sword, allowing the blade to delicately cut through. The metal loops dropped to the ground, hitting one another and causing a loud, slow, ringing sound to emanate from my direction. The giant slowly turned his head to face me, rage fueling his deep frown and furious eyes. The giant charged, cracking the whip into the air while growling something about grinding me up at the same time.

I drew my sword, raising it high above my head for a strike. The weight of sword began slowly tipping me over, for I had raised the blade far too high and back for a correctly weighted strike. I fell, the sword lodging itself into the dirt and grass beneath me. The swung his whip, powerful enough to shatter a whip-sized tremor crack into the ground. I stumbled backwards, backing up on my hands and feet. The swamp-giant struck again, smashing my back further into the ground. A gash opened within my chest, the pain almost being unbearable. A broken bone releases a slow, dull pain, but a slash or cut gives off an incredibly intense sharp stinging.

I began hyper-ventilating, clutching my slashed chest in pain. The fungi-infested swamp giant prepared the killing blow. Spiked whip in hand, he released a powerful strike downwards.


	5. Pursuer

**_Sorry for the hiatus on this chapter, I was paying someone to create a thumbnail for the story._**

**__****____****I attempt to stay as true as possible to canon in terms of species, characters, and locations. This allows me less freedom than other writers, so please keep your sent-in ideas as true to canon as possible.**

I stood with my back against a sturdy oak tree, attempting to deal with the heavy stress forced upon me. If I had a chance to find answers, I'd find them by repaying my debt to Choose Goose. I had no fighting skill, making me a less-than-ideal candidate for defending a market. Even my battle against the crystal ants was a mix of pure luck and the fact someone embedded a sword into a tree. I raised my back off the hefty oak, rising to my feet.

I had to survey the area, to make sure I was in no immediate danger. Walking through the market, Choose Goose attempted to glare at me the best a goose can glare, before flopping back down to attend to cleaning his wares. I tried my best to ignore him, his threat echoing through my head. Continuing on, I looked off into the horizon, noticing no monsters or other threats.

I sighed in relief, knowing I was safe for another day. I wasn't magic, this sword clearly used a clockwork firing mechanism, so I didn't have a magic sword, and I had no experience with sword-fighting. If I found myself in another fight, I would surely die. A structure stood out, however, within the horizon. A large house, carved into what appeared to be a gigantic tree. It reminded me of my initial arrival, the pain of my cracked ribs tempting me to travel there for help.

I was lucky as it is that Choose Goose bandaged me up, traveling there could endanger the market as well as myself. The thick forest surrounding the path out of the market prevented me from seeing any other structures, leading to even further curiosity of the world I now find myself within. I shook my head, exiting this daydream. I couldn't leave, because if I did, I'd either get eaten by some kind of creature or be hunted down by that damn goose for not repaying my debt.

I tried to head back to the tree for further stress and preparation, but an odd sensation stopped me. It was as if I was paralyzed, my peripheral vision catching a figure in the corner of my eyes. I quickly darted around, regaining my movement, and the figure stopped in it's tracks. A dark brown cloak surrounded the figure, shadows from a large looming hood covering it's face and identity. My eyes widened, the figure quickly initiating a fight-or-flight response and darting for the forest.

I followed shortly behind, rushing after the figure through hefty branches and twigs. The figure darted so nimbly, easily avoiding every branch as if it knew the forest like it was it's home. Tired of branches smacking me in the face and slowing me down, I drew my sword from my survival pack and began swinging wildly as I ran after the figure. Branches flew with every strike, the figure's nimble feet being unable to keep up with the might of a sword.

Finally, I gripped down tightly on the handle of the blade, firing the arrow-like tip off the blade at the figure. The figure quickly darted for an unknown side-path I failed to notice, resulting in the shot ripping a small piece of the figure's cloak off and nothing more. I stopped, panting with my hands placed on my knees, before realizing that I had lost the chase. Once I had regained my breath, I took the small piece of old fabric into my hands, softly brushing it with my thumbs. It was old and worn, like some kind of memento.

A scream came from the market, panic growing within my eyes. If the market got hurt, if something happened, I'd be the one they'd blame, the one Choose Goose would blame. I ran faster than I thought I ever could, twigs snapping under my feet, branches breaking into my body as I ran. Mud slipped under my shoes, sending me into a forward tumble through the exit of the forest. The first sight that greeted me, however, was not the figure as I expected, but rather a large giant coated in fungi. It held a mighty whip in one hand, while it's other split into three joint-lacking limbs.

I fumbled to draw my sword, attempting my best to unhook the straps securing it to my backpack. In a fit of frustration, I instead sliced through the metal loops by flipping the sword, allowing the blade to delicately cut through. The metal loops dropped to the ground, hitting one another and causing a loud, slow, ringing sound to emanate from my direction. The giant slowly turned his head to face me, rage fueling his deep frown and furious eyes. The giant charged, cracking the whip into the air while growling something about grinding me up at the same time.

I drew my sword, raising it high above my head for a strike. The weight of sword began slowly tipping me over, for I had raised the blade far too high and back for a correctly weighted strike. I fell, the sword lodging itself into the dirt and grass beneath me. The swung his whip, powerful enough to shatter a whip-sized tremor crack into the ground. I stumbled backwards, backing up on my hands and feet. The swamp-giant struck again, smashing my back further into the ground. A gash opened within my chest, the pain almost being unbearable. A broken bone releases a slow, dull pain, but a slash or cut gives off an incredibly intense sharp stinging.

I began hyper-ventilating, clutching my slashed chest in pain. The fungi-infested swamp giant prepared the killing blow. Spiked whip in hand, he released a powerful strike downwards.


End file.
